The day dragged on, every minute stretching to infinity. Tony walked around the town center, and bought lunch, eating in a cheap café. He returned to the motel shortly afterwards for a rest, lying on top of his bed. I don't even know what you'd say to me, mom, if you knew exactly what I was doing! He rubbed his face, attempting to clear his conscience. I won't hurt anyone. They're only after Christianson and his partners. That's all I got to do, find evidence and frame him, and possibly help put a stop to this kinda trafficking.

He rubbed his face vigorously. And what would you say, mom? Just what would say if you heard all the lies I told today? Wife and kids! He groaned aloud, remembering the dozens of times she had given him gentle hints about finding the right girl and settling down. If she ever heard about this… Well she won't. It's classified, he thought thankfully.

To his surprise he fell asleep for a couple of hours, spending the remaining time playing his guitar. Jack had nothing to complain about, he thought with a sigh, laying it down on the bed. At exactly ten to six he wandered down the stairs, his eyes raking the dining room. The family saw him and waved to him, and he joined them, relieved.

'Tony, sit down. He'll be here soon.'

He nodded, watching the crowd in the room. 'Who are all these people? Don't tell me they're all going in the truck tonight!'

The woman nodded. 'Sí.'

Tony shook his head disapprovingly. 'It'll be a little crowded,' he observed.

'Shush, that's him now,' the man told him unnecessarily, for he had noticed the moment the door was opened and a brown haired man clad in a short sleeved shirt and faded jeans entered. The entire room stirred, collecting their belongings.

'Alright people, sit down. SIT DOWN,' ordered Christianson harshly, holding up a hand. 'We're going to step into the truck one at a time.' He pulled out a list, calling out names. Tony remained with the young family, the room rapidly emptying. Eventually they left too, wishing him luck. 'You, what are you doing here? Who are you?' demanded Christianson, pulling a gun on him.

'Hey, relax,' Tony told him, holding his hands up. 'I got some money; I need to come with you tonight.'

Christianson relaxed fractionally, replacing his gun. 'Lock the truck,' he ordered his associate, a rough thug sporting an untidy beard. 'How much have you got?' he demanded, his eyes watching him suspiciously.

That man is as sharp as a razor blade, Tony noted, reminding himself to keep calm. 'Five thousand US,' he answered.

'That's not much,' observed Christianson, coldly. 'What do you do? You don't look like a peasant.'

Gee thanks, Tony thought sarcastically. 'I'm a mechanic,' he answered, the lie coming easier the second time. 'I fix trucks!'

Christianson looked interested for the first time. 'Hhm. I'll need evidence of your address and remaining family members, mechanic! Just so you repay me all you'll owe,' he said.

'Fair enough,' he agreed, hating the man's heavily accented Spanish. 'What kind of things are we talking about?' He already knew, but he needed to establish his cover with Christianson, so he listened carefully. 'Ok, I'll get those. When can you take me?'

Christianson got up. 'Next Sunday. I'll need to be paid now.' He held out his hand and Tony pulled 5000 dollars from his pocket, handing it over.

'Sunday is far away,' he observed. 'What am I supposed to do till then? I don't know anyone round here, and I haven't got much money.'

The man gave him a cold look. 'That's your problem, mechanic! Sleep in the park, or find an empty cardboard box! That's what you people live in, anyway, isn't it? Or find some work.' He turned and left, leaving Tony struggling against his rage.

'Cardboard box,' he muttered, watching the truck drive down the street. 'Arrogant sonofabitch! You'll be lucky to get that much, once I finish with you!' He walked around a few minutes, calming down, before he returned to the distant phone booth and called CTU.

'Hi Tony,' Jack greeted, sounding tired. 'Have you made contact?'

'Yeah,' he answered, shortly.

'And will he take you?'

'Aha,' Tony agreed, rubbing his face.

'Dammit Tony, talk to me. I want a full report,' Jack snapped.

Tony straightened, sensing his boss's exhaustion. 'There's not much to say, Jack. I went downstairs at 6:00, like I was told and I met a roomful of people all waiting for him. He read out their names and when the room got empty he pulled a gun on me and wanted to know who I was. I said I'm a mechanic and I fix trucks and he looked interested and quite honestly, his truck did look a little old.' He paused, drawing a deep breath. 'Sure hope he doesn't need me to service it,' he mumbled.

Jack snorted aloud. 'Dammit, Tony, why couldn't you have chosen a different cover? He probably does, you know. Tell me you know something about trucks!'

Tony narrowed his eyes, chewing his lips. 'I never saw a single truck engine in my life,' he admitted. 'But,' he continued, hearing another groan, 'I did fix military transports a coupla times in the desert. And I know how to keep my father's 4 wheel drive going.'

Jack let out a long breath. 'It'll have to do,' he said, after a silence. 'Tony, it would be the perfect cover for you, if you manage to pull it off. He'll keep you round to fix the truck and you'll eventually get to meet all his cronies. Try and make it work, ok?'

'Yeah,' Tony agreed, glancing at the remaining credits. 'I'll do my best. Listen, how long is this mission gonna last? You said a coupla days…'

'It'll last as long as it lasts,' Jack answered, irritated. 'You're beginning to see just what is involved in this operation.'

'Fine. Listen, I got six days to kill. I had to maintain my story, a cash strapped guy from central Mexico, some small town he's never heard of. I got to lie low for a while now and I was wondering whether I could come home? Just for the six days?'

A silence greeted his request. 'Tony, are you still there. I'm afraid it's outa the question,' Jack told him, sympathetically. 'I know LA is a large city and the chances of you two running into each other is next to nothing, but we can't take that chance right now. Leave the town and lie low somewhere, you got money.'

'Ok,' he agreed, another thought entering his head, which drew a smile to his lips. 'Jack, I got a grandfather here, about 200 miles further south. You got any objections if I visit him?' He held his breath, eagerly. I'm going anyway, whatever you say, he decided.

'Good idea,' Jack agreed. 'Just make sure no one from there knows this guy.'

'I'll just say I got a week off and I came to visit,' Tony assured him. 'I do a lot, no one would be suspicious. Thanks, Jack.'

'You got it,' Jack agreed. 'Listen, Tony, I'll expect you to call everyday, to make certain you're ok.'

Tony hung up, promising he would call and retraced his steps to the motel more cheerfully. He watched a little TV before going out to buy a cheap meal, returning to spend the rest of the night in his room.

At dawn he checked out, carrying his things over to the bus station. The inconvenience of public transport became apparent remarkably soon. No bus went anywhere near the small settlement, forcing him to purchase a ticket to the nearest town instead. Tony spent the next four hours squashed into a seat, a fat woman blocking his exit, his guitar jammed beside his feet. The bus stopped at several settlements along the way, people getting on and off. Each time it paused he hoped the woman would disembark, disappointed repeatedly. Once the bus reached Hermosillo he excused himself and climbed off, rubbing his cramped legs. A walk of several hours faced him if he didn't wish to spend the rest of the day in the city. Longing to see his grandfather, he set off, walking all afternoon before he reached the tiny settlement. Exhausted, he laid his guitar on the ground, cursing Chappelle yet again for having insisted he take it and bought a bottle of lemonade, drinking it outside the shop.

'Tony, buenas noches,' exclaimed a female voice and a young woman settled beside him, grinning broadly. 'I didn't know you were coming.'

'I didn't either,' he told her, smiling back at his young cousin. 'How are you, Rosa?'

'Fine. You look exhausted.'

'I had to walk,' he told her, mopping his face.

'No. Where's your car?' she cried, shocked.

Tony covered his mouth, turning red. 'Traffic police impounded it back home.'

Rosa laughed aloud and he joined in, shaking his head. 'It's not that funny, you know! I was left stranded and I had to call my parents.'

'Oh no,' she cried, highly amused. 'Tony, they would've been mad! Would you like a lift?'

He nodded. 'Sí, or I'll end up getting arrested for loitering, sleeping on this bench!' He followed her to her car and laid his things on the back seat. 'How's Felipe and the baby?'

'They're fine.' She dropped him fifteen minutes later at the edge of his grandfather's farm.

'Thanks, Rosa, I really needed that lift,' he told her gratefully.

'You're welcome. I'll never forget how you owned up to breaking that window. I was so scared…'

Tony pulled his guitar out, shaking his head. 'You started crying.' He lifted his backpack, giving her a hug.

'But it wasn't you, and you got thrashed.' She glanced at him unhappily and he grinned at her.

'Hey, forget it. You sure you can't come in now?' She shook her head, promising to see him again soon and he walked along the driveway, his mind deep in memories. Sometimes he needed to return to the complete peace he always felt with his grandfather, when the events he dealt with daily at CTU threatened to overwhelm him. Sighing contentedly he pushed open the door, aware his grandfather never locked it and laid his things on the ground.

'Abuelo,' he called, hearing hurried footsteps.

'Tony!' his grandfather cried, hugging him tightly. 'I didn't know you were coming. Have you got some time off?'

Tony followed him back to the kitchen, settling at a table. He explained he was on a mission. His grandfather watched him carefully, shaking his head.

'I don't like the thought of you chasing after crooks, Antonio. If they discover you, they'll shoot you.'

He nodded, getting up to collect a couple of plates. 'Sí, but they won't discover me. My cover's real plausible. Anyway, I'm hardly going to allow someone to shoot me!'

'Antonio, you haven't got your gun,' his grandfather told him, filling his plate. 'The moment you suspect they're onto you, get out. Forget your mission. Promise me that, ok?' He looked steadily at Tony, who nodded.

'I'll run for it, alright, before I return to arrest him! Anyway, I got six days here. Who knows, I might not even feel like going back,' he joked, laying his fork down. 'Gracias abuelo, that was great.'

His grandfather looked at him seriously. 'You know you're always welcome to stay, Tony, as long as you like. If you don't want to go back, you don't have to.'

Tony chuckled, carrying the plates to the sink. 'Abuelo, I got a real strict coupla bosses. If I even thought of such a thing I'd end up in jail and they'd throw away the key! Besides, this guy I'm after is a real bastard, he threatens women and kids. I want to get him!'

His grandfather nodded, seeing how tired he looked. 'Why don't you go to bed early tonight? There's plenty of work waiting for you tomorrow if you wish to help.'

Tony nodded, laying the last knife in the drier. 'Of course I'll help. Oh wait, can I use the phone? I got to call my boss everyday.'

He settled in the dark lounge, remembering his grandmother reading stories every night to his younger brothers and sisters. A lump came to his throat and he squeezed his eyes shut, enjoying the peace before he called CTU. He gave Jack his location and assured him he was fine.

'Tony, enjoy this time, ok. I need your full concentration once you contact Christianson again.'

'You got it,' he promised, his eyes resting on a photograph of his entire family. 'Jack, I'll get some sleep now.'

'Good idea. What are you planning on doing tomorrow?' Jack asked, sounding fully alert. He could tell it had been an easy day at CTU.

'Tomorrow I'm gonna do some 'real' work,' he said, amused. 'Potato field needs weeding! Goodnight, Jack.'

The week passed rapidly, Tony working hard with his grandfather, joined by various relatives as the days wore on. He called his parents a few times; assuring them he was fine and sat up late with his grandfather in the evenings, reminiscing over glasses of homemade wine. He felt deep regret when he climbed into the car on his way back to the town where he was supposed to meet Christianson.

His grandfather drove him to the edge of the town, hugging him fiercely. 'Take care, Antonio.' He nodded, pulling on his backpack. 'And Tony, once this is over you could find a pretty girl, you know. It's time now!'

Tony's eyes widened in surprise. 'You sound like mom,' he complained, grinning. 'Hey, if anybody ever wants to look at me…'

'They will m'ijo, probably sooner than you think!' His grandfather waved and drove away, leaving him speechless.

Tony chuckled and shook his head, feeling his cheeks burn. So far he had endured gentle hints, now the questioning had begun. He wondered when they would stop asking. Not for the next coupla decades, he decided ruefully, walking the final mile to the motel.

He pushed open the door, noting the crowd in the dining room. If anything, it was even more crammed than the previous week. Every seat was occupied, several men sitting on the floor. He moved to the back of the room and leaned against the wall, keeping an eye on his possessions. His heart beat rapidly as 6:00 o'clock approached. Whatever would happen if his cover were blown? He wasn't really trained in this at all; he had been a sniper, used to dealing with situations head on. On the sole occasion he had been captured they hadn't dealt terribly kindly with him. Tony rubbed his face, pushing the memory away, the way he always did when it surfaced.

A quiet sound distracted him and he glanced down, finding his guitar case open. A small hand plucked a string repeatedly, singing a nursery rhyme. Tony watched the young girl for a few minutes, deciding she was about his niece's age.

'Blanca,' exclaimed a woman in her mid twenties, closing the case and depositing the child on her knees. 'I am sorry,' she apologized.

Tony shook his head, noting her long dark braided hair that hung all the way to her waist, thick as a rope. 'It's ok. She's very pretty.'

The child gave him a shy smile and nodded and the woman smiled too, shaking her head. 'Don't tell her that! She'll get vain.'

The door opened before he could think of anything else to say and Christianson entered. Tony took a deep breath, hearing him order everyone to sit down in silence and move outside when their name was called. 'Alright, we got a slight problem tonight,' he told the assembled crowd. 'Border guards are too active. I'm gonna stash you someplace safe and come collect you all when they relax.' A murmur went up from the anxious group. 'Silence! I said I'll come back, right! Now start moving on the truck.'

Tony lifted the child up; earning him a grateful smile from the woman, before lifting up his things - longing to strangle Chappelle for insisting he take his guitar as there was virtually no standing room. 'You must be very fond of it,' the woman told him, nodding her head at the instrument he attempted to squash between his legs and the side of the truck.

'I am. It was a present from my grandfather,' he said truthfully. Somehow he felt reluctant to lie to her. 'Here, sit down,' he suggested, pushing people a few inches further and clearing space for her.

'Gracias,' she told him gratefully, pulling the child on her knees. 'Señor?'

'My name's Tony,' he told her, feeling at ease in her company. He barely noticed the truck starting as she gave him another smile.

'I'm Clarissa.'

The truck moved faster and the journey became uncomfortable. People attempted to squeeze closer together to avoid falling as it bounced over potholes. The child began to cry, clutching her mother, terrified in the gloom.

'Hey, are you a little hungry?' Tony asked gently, pulling a packet of chocolate from his pocket. She nodded, sniffing and he broke her a piece, handing another piece to Clarissa.

'Gracias, Tony. This is a terrible journey,' she groaned as the truck hit an extra large hole, causing them to get thrown around.

'It won't take long,' he assured her. 'He said he can't take us across tonight, remember, he'll put us somewhere. It should be quite close.' As the nightmare trip continued he pulled Blanca on his knees, shielding her from the constant bumping she received. Dammit, this is no way for a child to travel! he fumed, worried about her. It's dark, it's real bumpy and the air's turning stale.

The air was indeed turning stale and he noted the child's increasing lethargy in concern. Tony leaned towards Clarissa who appeared lost in her own misery, shaking her shoulder. 'Clarissa, Blanca's gonna need a little more air. I'm gonna carry her over to the door,' he told her speaking loudly to be heard over the rattling of the truck. She nodded. He forced his way through the huddled mass of people, physically clearing a gap beside the door, noting a slight breeze in relief. It was not much but it would keep her alive.

Tony sat her on his knees, unable to help Clarissa join them as he feared she would be trampled if he left her, resolving to add overcrowding to the long list of crimes he meant to charge Christianson with.